I do not own Divergent or its characters.

Chapter 11

"We're all just going to do my fear landscape together." Four pulls out two black boxes, each has a couple syringes filled with an orange liquid. "I don't show this to anyone, and you won't tell anyone that you've seen this or anything about what you see in here, got it?" He's got the most intimidating presence, I don't even know how to describe it.

The three of us are standing outside the fear landscape room. When Tris had suggested talking to her parents and Marcus Eaton, Four had visibly paled, which seemed odd. After being silent a few minutes he'd abruptly said that he trusted both of us and needed us to understand something, then led us here.

Four goes on to explain about how the serum does something or other to some part of your brain where you process fear, blah blah blah. I don't really care how it works, just what it does. "During your fear simulations in stage two," he continues, and this sounds like time to tune back in, "you aren't supposed to be aware that you're in a simulation. Like the aptitude test, you will be aware, you'll know it's not real. You also might be able to create objects or otherwise manipulate the simulation. If you do that, it will be obvious that you're… different." After explaining how to get out of a sim—face the fear, or calm your breathing and heart rate—and that all his fears will show up here, from the mildest fear progressively worse, he injects us each in the neck. Apparently the computer controls whose fears we go into, so we can all go in together, all aware of it being a sim, and each other.

We step into the fear landscape room. "See if you can figure out why they call me Four." Oh yeah, Tris probably doesn't know how Four got his nickname.

Click. The door latches shut, and we are left in total darkness. Tris grabs my hand.

"What's your real name?" she asks Four. Ha! He's been asked that in countless truth or dare games and not once has he answered. There's no way he's telling us.

"See if you can figure that out too."

I'm definitely intrigued now, but I don't have time to think about it as the simulation pulls us under. In the blink of my eyes, the room transforms into Four's first fear. We are outside. The sky is bright blue the city sprawls below us; we are high on a skyscraper's rooftop. Who would have guessed that one of his fears could be something as common as heights? Obviously, neither Tris nor I share this fear with Four.

Even over the strong wind I can hear Four's heavy breathing. His eyes are the roundest I've ever seen them. He's terrified. "There's no door," I observe. "So what, we jump?"

Four shakes his head. "If this were the final test," he gasps, "the fear landscape, yes you could face your fear and jump. But what if you thought that this was real, like you should, but won't, in stage two. What would a Dauntless do if this were real?"

"Try to climb down," Tris suggests. Four nods, his eyes closed, clinging to the metal tower behind him.

I add, "yeah, there are ledges above and below the windows, so we could use those."

"We're not going to do that right now," he says. "You just need to practice figuring out the right strategy, which you just did. But one more thing. Sometimes you can manipulate the sim, like I could think 'there's a door behind me' and—" a door appears behind him out of nowhere. Wow, that is cool! "—it will give you a way out. Or it could be a gun, or whatever. But you never, ever do that." Lame. "The wrong person sees that and you'll find yourself at the bottom of the chasm. Dauntless don't create doors or guns in their sims." Okay, note to self, absolutely don't manipulate sims. Got it. Scared straight.

"Okay then," I clap my hands together, "let's jump and move on to the next one." Tris holds both my hand and Four's, counts to three, and we jump. My stomach is in my throat as we free fall, accelerating toward the ground, until as we near it the scene changes and we're back in total darkness. I try to step back but a wall stops me. Tris is in front of me slapping a wall in front of her.

"Confinement," Four groans. Tris moves toward him and as she does, the box shrinks to close the empty space.

"What do we do in this one?" I ask. "Just calm down so the computer moves on?" I can barely see him nod. He does not seem at all calm. This could take a while.

Four groans, hiding his eyes in his crossed arms. "OK, if this were really a fear simulation where you were not supposed to be aware, what would you do?"

"I'd try to force it open first," I start, "and of course would fail."

Tris nods. "Then I'd check all around for any sort of tool… of course, not creating anything."

I add, "and at that point I think my only option would be to calm myself down, right?"

"Yep, good," Four mumbles into his hands. He's nearly panting. Again… who would have guessed clausterphobia would be one of his only four fears?! I don't think I'd have liked being friends with him as a kid. Those fears rule out a lot of fun things. I guess seeing how much these fears really do affect him, it's pretty amazing that he acts in spite of fear so well—there are tons of high places you could easily fall from in everyday life in the Dauntless compound, and he just goes about his day, ignoring his fear, every single day. Acting in the midst of fear, not letting fear control you—that's real bravery.

"So I guess you might not be a big fan of hide and go seek, Four?" I joke. "I always hid in cabinets or the coat closet."

"Me too, when I was little enough to be allowed to play games," Tris agrees. "I'd hide behind the winter coats."

"I never played hide-and-go-seek." Four's voice was scratchy.

"Where does this fear come from, Four?" Tris asks. "Maybe talking about it will help us somehow."

"Okay… um…" Tris grabs Four's hand and puts it at the top of her chest so he can feel her deep breaths and match them. "This one is from my fantastic childhood. Childhood punishments. The tiny closet upstairs." Damn. I'm just realizing how little any of us really know about Four. I don't think even Zeke knows stuff like this about Four. "I don't really want to talk about it anymore," he groans.

"Ask us something, then," I suggest.

"Okay," he laughs but it sounds forced. "Why is your heart racing, Tris?" Well now mine has picked up a bit too… apparently his hand is still on her chest. My cheeks burn.

"Well, I…" Tris stammers, "I am in a very small, dark space with two very attractive boys…" Embarrassed, Tris buries her face in her hands. I'm glad she can't see how widely I'm grinning right now, and Four lets out a genuine laugh, the kind where even though I can hardly see him, I can tell he's grinning as wide as I am. The wooden box we've been trapped in bursts apart as if the laugh itself were a sledgehammer.

We all straighten and I don't see anything, but Four's eyes are wide. Someone appears beside him, pressing a gun to Four's head. But the fear isn't fear for his own life. I follow his gaze, turning to see behind me. A girl dressed in all white sits placidly in a chair. Between us and the girl is a small table with a gun on it. "Who is she?" asks Tris.

"An innocent," Four says.

"You have to shoot her," I state flatly. This fear is about his capacity to harm someone innocent, and about having to do something against his beliefs.

Four nods as he picks up and aims the gun. His hands are steady, but his eyes are pained. "Sometimes, as a Dauntless soldier, you have to follow orders you don't necessarily agree with." He closes his eyes and turns his head away. "But I can never do it unless I look away."

Bang! Red spreads from the bullet hole, staining the girl's white dress, and she slumps lifelessly to the side, then vanishes. Strangely, I know this is the third of his four fears, but he still didn't have much trouble with that one. It hardly even seemed like he was afraid.

"Here we go," whispers Four. We're in a dark, plain room, standing in the center of a circle of light. A figure lurks ahead of us in the darkness. I glance at Four and he looks so utterly terrified, I don't even mind that he's hanging onto Tris's hand for dear life. The figure draws closer and my breathing picks up a bit waiting to see what, or who, haunts Four in his nightmares.

The figure steps into the light. It's a man in gray Abnegation clothes. He's tall, his hair is Abnegation short, and his hands are joined behind his back. I'm about to ask who he is when Tris inhales a sharp breath.

"Marcus," she whispers. What? This guy does look familiar though… I feel like I should know him…

Four's voice shakes. "Here's the part where you figure out my name."

Abnegation. Government. Marcus. Marcus Eaton. I finally got it. He's the head of the whole government. Wait so… "Is Marcus Eaton…?" I trail off.

"Marcus had a son, who joined Dauntless," Tris says slowly. Then her voice is barely a whisper. "Tobias." Tobias Eaton.

I don't pay much attention to current events, I don't read the paper. But Tobias Eaton, son of Marcus Eaton, Abnegation… I've heard that name. The Erudite were releasing articles… about exactly what's about to happen next, because Marcus has unbuckled his belt and is pulling it out of his pants belt loops.

It's obvious what's going to happen, especially when I see Four. He cowers, and it's so unlike him, my jaw drops. He may go about his day as if he isn't afraid of the height of every path in the Pit, but this fear, the fear this monster of a 'father' has literally beaten into him, it has him paralyzed. I lean in right next to him, with my arm around his shoulder to help keep his attention, and my mouth near his ear. "Four." I'm surprised by how serious and commanding my own voice is. "You're Dauntless. You're one of the bravest people I know and you can act in the face of this fear. What would a Dauntless do right now, Four?" His looks at me and blinks his eyes into focus, and I repeat my question. "What does a Dauntless do?" Four has come back to reality not a moment too soon.

"This is for your own good," he says, and as we are surrounded by a dozen of his clones, all their eyes black pits and all their fingernails looking like claws, all twelve raising the belt in the air.

Four begins to straighten, gaining some inner strength, as Marcus brings down the belt, and he's almost fully straightened up when Tris jumps in front of him, blocking the belt with her arm, wincing as the leather wraps around her wrist. Her jaw is tense as she grits her teeth against the hot stinging pain, and I grab the belt as Four lunges at Marcus, throwing a series of punches and kicks that are obviously just to work out some of his anger, before knocking him out with a powerful punch to the temple.

As soon as he falls unconscious, we find ourselves back in the fear landscape room. I'm sure not calm yet though. I'm pissed. Like I'd like to hop a train to Abnegation and beat the shit out of that pansycake right now. Who does that to their child?! My parents spanked us a few times, but that's some firm pats on the butt, not a fucking belt whipping! And the childhood punishments in the closet. No wonder Four is so quiet and private, his childhood was hell… and our head government official is a sick monster.

"That's it? Why do you only have four…" Tris trails off. "Oh. That's why they call you Four." Four looks awestruck, I guess that anyone ever bothered stick up for him. Four, the legendary Four, who I've rarely seen touch anyone let alone hug them, abruptly wraps an arm tightly around each of us. Can this night get any weirder?

I awkwardly pat his back. Tris quietly says, "Hey, we got through it."

"You faced him, Four. That was bravery. Totally Dauntless." And I mean it.

Four steps back and locks eyes with Tris for a few seconds too long before glancing at me then looking down, scratching the back of his neck. Yeah, I really didn't like that little interaction at all. Though we haven't defined our relationship, just kissed a few times, so maybe I don't have much right to an opinion here.

I hope no one has any more new world-altering info to share, because then my head just might explode.